Twisted
by Xarilyn
Summary: Mabel is on the loose, and both father and son’s lives are threatened. Then, Rylan disappears one day, and Ian suspects it was Mabel’s works. Will all be too late, the results disastrous from minds being twisted? Sequel to Lost Love [What A Boy Wants]
1. Default Chapter

**A/N:** Hey all! This is me here! ((: I'm back! This story is basically a sequel to my first story in the What A Boy Wants, erm, series, Lost Love. This story, as you already know, is titled Twisted. Please do continue to read and support me and I hope you enjoy this story as much as you do in the previous one! (Assuming that you did enjoy the previous one) And special thanks to **InfinityEstel** who constantly reviewed every single chapter of Lost Love... and to all others who had reviewed as well! Love ya all! )

**Summary:** Mabel is on the loose, and both father and son's lives are threatened by this lunatic. Then, Rylan disappears mysteriously one day, and Ian, having not a single clue on where he is, suspects it was Mabel's works. If Ian is right, then there's just a problem – where on earth is she? Will someone be able to find the poor boy before Mabel destroys him – both mentally and physically? Or will all be too late, the results disastrous from minds being twisted?

**Disclaimer:** Anything recgonizable -- not mine ('cept for my characters.) Others -- mine. 

Enjoy!

* * *

**TWISTED**

Prologue

_I told you I will be back… and now I'm going to get my revenge. The revenge that I should have had a long time ago…_

_But never mind when. The important thing is how, and who. Who… the jinx, definitely. Who else? How…Hmm… let's see. First I must find their Achilles' heels. Yes, I know how! I'm going to take him apart slowly, one by one, torture him till he screams… but no one will be able to hear him, or save him. I'll make sure he gets a taste of what she suffered… I'll make him scream, scream with all his might! Scream… let the other one hear it too… let his scream be etched in his memory! He'll live with that scream haunting him forever… Yessss! This is perfect! I'll make sure he screams with all his might! I'll make sure that every single ounce of his energy is spent on screaming! Yes! Yesss! _

_Ahh… the little one is here. Yum…how tasty! But I think I'll hold back and observe for a while… yesss! I'll do that. Let him have a few more days to enjoy before he meets up with Satan. _

_The jinx must, and will, die! He'll pay the prices! And he'll regret this for life… wait what life? He'll already be dead long before he wishes that he were never born! cackles Yes, yes! Dead… I'd love to see him dead, but for now, I'll just lie low. Yes…_

_Enjoy what you have now, jinx. You may want to go to the beach, for in a few days' time, you'll never get to see the sun rise again… _

* * *

Rylan walked briskly. He was almost late. He had to hurry, and he didn't really fancy getting into trouble again. He couldn't let it happen once more. Once was more than enough. Moreover, this constant tardiness of his would be reflected on his annual report card and he definitely would not want to give his teacher the satisfaction of complaining to his father. He had enough of those already.

As he ran through the crowds, he felt odd. He could have sworn that he saw a shadow behind those oil barrels. A shadow of a person. But he just shrugged it off. It might just be an illusion, or an eye-trick, like they say. Plus, he was running late and he could not stop.

But if he had stopped to look, he would probably catch a pair of eyes staring at him intensely, with a malicious grin to pair up with them, from a retreating figure. A grin that would scare the daylight out of him.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Heyy! Sorry I took so long to update. Been busy with school and all. Well, I don't know about y'all, but for me, it's the last day of school! In other words, starting from tomorrow, it's vacation time! ((: Hope y'all are okay and doing well. And hope that y'all will enjoy this chapter too. ((: InfinityEstel - where are you? **

**Disclaimer: As usual.**

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Chapter 1

_I will not be late again. I will hurry and walk faster next time. _

_I will not be late again. I will hurry and walk faster next time._

_I will not be late again. I will hurry and walk faster next time._

_I will not be late again. I will hurry and walk faster next time._

_I will not be late again. I will hurry and walk faster next time._

_I will not be late again. I will hurry_

He scribbled furiously on that mini paper. It was so small he had to squeeze his usually big handwriting with huge spaces, into tiny ones. He could have sworn the words were written not for his teacher, but the ants to read.

His hand was getting tired and sore by now, but he could not stop. It was not because he did not want to stop, but he was not allowed to stop. With the watchful eye of the teacher right at the front of the classroom, he was not able to even hesitate for one second. This kind of punishment to a five-year-old kid just because he was late? It is pure torture!

But he dared not make a single sound. He did not want more lines to write. Currently he had only another twenty sentences more or so to go, and he would not want it to become a three-digit number.

Just then the bell rang. Everyone got up to leave, but he stayed put. After all, he had to. He scribbled faster than before, hoping he would finish it in time to have his recess. But as he was writing the last ten sentences, dark shadows fell upon his paper. His heart sank. He did not have to look up to know who they were.

"Ahh… I see you writing down sentences again. When was the last time you had to do this again? Let me think… was it… yesterday?" The voice he recgonised as the biggest bully in class, Duane. He heard laughters following the comment, but he ignored them. It was Duane and his gang again.

"So, Rylan, or should I say _Ryles_, how are you coping with that? Yesterday it was fifty sentences, if I did not remember it wrongly, and today's, what, hundred?" The taunt rang in his ear. "Need Mummy to help you with it, dear cutie _Ryles_?" Another burst of laughter, but he still let it pass. He was following his father's instructions: _Ignore all teases and look away._ That was Golden Rule No 1.

"Oh wait" the laughter stopped "we forgot! He has no Mummy, eh? He has none! His Mummy has returned to Egypt!" More laughing fits. Rylan was starting to panic now. He had ignored them but they still would not stop. What was he to do now? Then he remembered._ Stay calm. Be cool_. _Never pick a fight, no matter the insults_. That was Papa's second Golden Rule.

But the jeers continued. "Never mind… no Mama is still okay, right? You still have Papa don't you?" Duane Wilder said.

Then a boy, whom Rylan guessed to be Eric Moore, pointed out. "No, Duane, his Papa wouldn't come to help him. His Papa would rather _die_, wouldn't he? Anyway, his Papa is useless… heard he got injured, didn't he? Some kinda thing on his neck."

Immediately Rylan's hand snapped up. "How did you know?" He whispered fiercely.

"Ooh, ooh… he's finally speaking! I thought he was mute!" Duane laughed along with the gang.

"How did you know?" Rylan repeated his question through clenched teeth, not wanting to let it slide.

"Oh dear cutie pie Ryles… we're sorry you're a bit slow... Don't you know that the_ whole _school already knows about it? Perhaps you're a little too slow about it… but I don't exactly mind breaking the news to you." Duane leaned in closer till they were face to face, only centimeters away from one another, as though telling a secret that can only be shared between the two. "_Even the_ _principal knows about it now_."

Shock was all Rylan could feel. It was all he could do not to widen his eyes, but he still remained his stand. Glaring back at the bully he saw before him, he wouldn't back down till they left. He watched as the gang left the classroom, laughing heartily as usual. He was speechless. How could the news spread ever so quickly? That incident happened, when was it, only last week!

Scribbling the remaining sentences he had left, he quickly got up, handed in the paper and left, though not before another long lecture from his teacher. Sighing, he strode out of the classroom, and broke into a sprint when he was out of his teacher's sight. How he wished that the first lesson today was Art! He knew Ms Roderick wouldn't be so hard on him; she would just let the matter rest. Was today an unlucky day for him? Perhaps he should set a special date on his calendar: Tuesday the 10th was unlucky for him, and he should watch out.

Rushing into the canteen, he hoped that he still had enough time for some snacks. That little chat with Duane and gang took up more time than he had expected. He glanced up at the clock. It showed fifteen to nine._ Oh no, I've got only 5 minutes!_ He thought.

He ran into the canteen where everyone was hurrying out. As they rushed out, all of them couldn't help but halt to take a second glance at the boy who was going in the other direction. Then realization dawned upon them all. He was _the one_, as they would refer him to, and whisper to one another, gossiping in low voices and constantly pointing at him.

He tried to ignore them by pretending that everything was alright, but it was hard for him to conceal his pain. Yes, he never had any friends before, and now it didn't make a difference in that. But at least he didn't have had people alienating him! He was aching inside, but he brushed it aside.

After buying his sandwich, Rylan immediately walked to the nearest table, sat down and began to eat. He tried so hard to not notice the stares he was garnering; instead he focused on his food, but there was, in fact, nothing fascinating about egg mayo in between two slices of bread. He was starting to lose his patience.

Then finally he lost it. He decided it was the last straw when a boy stood beside him, sneering and snickering and refusing to walk away.

He lashed out.

----------------------------

I lived for you and me

And now I've really come to see

That life would be much better

Once you're gone

I know that I can take no more, it ain't no lie

I wanna see you out that door

Baby bye, bye, bye

_- N'Sync_

-------------------------

She knocked on his door before entering. He did not even look up. She didn't care. She could not care any longer. Without a word she placed the envelope before him. She had spent last night typing this letter, and now it was time.

"Hmm?" He finally looked up and read the words printed on the cover of the envelope in surprise. "Wha-?"

"This, is my resignation letter." She said calmly.

He tried to register her words in shock. "B-But… you don't have to do this, you know. I mean –"

"I know you know mean, but I've already made up my mind. It's been three to four days, and that's long enough time for me to come up with a sensible and non-regrettable decision."

"But… that was personal life and this is work. You really want to mix these two together? I mean, where will you find a job later? Moreover, you're earning pretty much here. You really want to give it up because of what happened? Because of me?"

"I know, I know, but don't worry it's not because of you. I've decided to quit because I wanted to start afresh. I don't care about the pay. I'm sure I can get it elsewhere too, but… I must leave. I cannot bear to stay here any longer."

"But you're here for less than two weeks and –" he sucked in a deep breath "we both can start anew."

"Forget it. I've been hurt far enough and I can take no more."

He got up immediately and walked towards her. She turned away and inhaled deeply. "Give it up, Mr Wallace. I'm not going to allow myself to be deceived by you once more."

Ian Wallace took hold of her hand. "Is that what you really think of me? A liar?"

The only response he got was deep breaths. He continued. "I- I know I was wrong to… to abandon you there, but… I had too. It was too fast and… " he exhaled "frankly, I don't regret it at all. I only wish now that, we can start all over again and take things slowly one at a time."

She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Then she opened them and pulled his hand away from her. She took a step forward so that her back was facing him. "No, Ian, as much as I want to, I can trust you no longer. But… do you really mean what you said?" A part of her was telling her not to give in, but the other was encouraging her to take up Ian's offer. She decided to hear what he had got to say first.

"Yes, I truly mean it."

"Then I… I really have no idea. You know, I'm really scared. I must confess that my love for you is still going strong; it has not weakened, but… but do you know how long I took to get over that incident last week? It is still painfully etched in my mind."

Just then, Ian's cell started vibrating and without a single warning he pressed the green button and put it to his ear. Meanwhile, Rebecca continued talking.

"I could not go through the pain again, you must know that. It is just too unbearable. I-I really don't know. I think I… I better leave. Perhaps the ache in my heart will heal faster then."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yes… I… I'm absolutely sure." She forced herself to say the words, even though her heart longed for another. She must be strong and fierce, she told herself. She would not allow herself to be "duped" again, or so she thought.

"Tell me you're kidding." Ian's voice was grave.

"No, no, I'm not. I… I'm glad that you want me to stay but… I think I really can't, but –" As she turned around she started to develop serious doubts about the attention Ian spared her. "Ian?"

Ian Wallace's face was red. He was shaking violently, especially the hand that was holding his cell. He looked ghastly.

"Mr Wallace? Ian? Are you okay?" She asked, fear starting to creep into her.

"I… I must go now. Help me take over everything else, will you, please?" Ian grabbed his coat from his chair and turning to leave.

"What's going on?" Rebecca strode up from behind him and blocked his path. She stared up at him. "I'm not letting you leave till you tell me what's going on." She declared.

"I… Rylan has been into a fight." Those were the only words he could say.

Rebecca's expression was unreadable. She took in his words immediately and said, "Then I'm going with you. No 'but's."

* * *

Rylan watched as the discipline master called his father. He was feeling scared now, and was remorseful. The boy sitting beside him was sobbing furiously; Rylan wished he would just shut up. He was feeling vexed and frustrated. He had tried to plead with Mr Hughes not to call his Papa but Mr Hughes would not listen. But why? Hadn't he already known that he was wrong? Hadn't he already apologized and promised that he would never do such things again? Why must Mr Hughes still make the phone call?

He was worried for what was going to be in for him. His father had said he would arrive in 30 minutes' time and he was counting down now. Time was passing excruciating slowly for him. There were still 29 and a half minutes left.

He sat there, hands becoming cold and clammy. He was afraid of how his father would react. Would Ian be angry? Or would he understand the position Rylan was in just then? Would he even understand what Rylan was feeling?

Rylan swallowed hard. He prepared himself for the worst. He knew Ian was not the violent type, so for that he could let his mind rest. But he thought about the emotional part instead. Would he break his father's heart? He guessed so. He had not followed his father's instructions – the Golden Rules – and had done something both he and his father never expected him to do.

Minutes ticked by and the lump in his throat was swelling up. There was a constant pounding in his ear which grew louder every moment and he desperately tried to ignore. He let those snide remarks and passing comments slide past with much difficulty, and stared down at the carpet with interest – in pretence – to avoid those stares by either the staff or students who had been called in for detention classes. He tried to hide his shame but to no avail.

* * *

_Alert! Alert! I've got a change of plans now! Yes... I meant to lie low for about another few more days but right now this is the perfect opportunity to rap him. I have my bait already, the perfectly-woven excuse that no child would not believe. Yess… it's time for some action. glees and claps happily_

* * *

Just then, the bell on the door to the office jingled. It must be another student or teacher, Rylan thought. There was just no point in turning around to check; he had been doing so for thousands of times and none of which turned out to be his father.

"Yes?" He saw Mr Hughes stand up and look towards the direction of the door, peering through his glasses. "May I help you?"

"Ah yes, actually. I am here for Rylan Wallace." Came the pleasant voice.

Rylan's blood turned cold. He needed not to turn round to know who the visitor was. After living with that person for six years now, he could recgonise that voice as easily as knowing his way around his house blindfolded. His heart almost stopped.

Forcing himself to turn around, his heart sank as his worst fears were confirmed.

TBC... Now, please review!


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Ah I see. But… I had called for his father, and you are…?" Rylan heard Mr Hughes saying in the background.

"His mother. My husband is not free at the moment so I've come to pick Rylan up instead. May I know what the problem is?" That extremely sweet voice again.

_She is a liar! She is not my Mama! Don't you know? My real Mama is already dead!_

"Haven't your husband told you, Mrs Wallace? I thought I told him on the phone!"

"Oh he hasn't. He just told me that there was a little accident at school, involving my son. That's all. Now, what has my son done?"

_Nothing. I have done nothing that concerns you, madwoman. _

"Well, Rylan has been in a fight. And you might want to tell your husband that it is not a little accident. He kicked a pupil and punched him in the eye. And I thought you might want to know that the pupil's parents are considering filing for a complaint, unless you and Mr. Wallace are willing to compensate by paying for the poor boy's medical fees and others."

"I DID NOT KICK HIM!" Rylan yelled in his defense. He could stand it no longer, but didn't know why. He had never dared to yell in the presence of his discipline master before. Why was he behaving this way? He guessed it was due to the lies.

"Now, be quiet, Rylan. Mrs Wallace, as you can see, your son has caused great disturbance today. I suggest you bring him home right now, and perhaps you can talk about it and get him to reflect his actions." Mr Hughes said disapprovingly. "As for his punishments…"

"Oh, actually, I think you can, um, leave that, sir. I will see to it that Rylan is duly punished. Oh yes, I will…"

What was that Rylan noted in the voice? A tinge of excitement in the last sentence? Whatever it was, it sent shivers down his spine.

"Oh no, ma'am. We can't do that, unfortunately. You may want to punish him at home, but it is truly different in school here. All punishments must be carried out, or it shall be unfair to the rest of the students, and the parent s will complain, and –"

"Ah, fine! Go ahead then, but be quick with it."

"Today, ma'am?" Mr Hughes was confused. "But that was not what I intended. I wanted –"

"I'd rather it be today, sir, if you'd please."

For a moment the discipline master looked doubtful, then he agreed. "All right. Rylan, you come with me. Mrs Wallace, you shall wait here."

"Can I come along as well? Please?"

Mr Hughes stared at the lady for a long time, before nodding slowly. "Sure." He said without any trace of emotions.

The discipline master had led Rylan and his 'mother' to a small 'special' room, as he had termed it. One look at it and you know what the punishment would be. Mr Hughes fingered a long wooden cane – a thin one, though – and Rylan couldn't help but shiver. It was not due to the cane, but the array of wooden canes on the wall. They were arranged from the thinnest to the thickest, and Mr Hughes – of course – had chosen the thinnest one.

"Um… actually, sir, I would prefer it to be the other one." His so-called mother spoke as she pointed to one of the canes on the wall.

"This one?" Mr Hughes gestured towards the second thinnest one.

"No, no. Perhaps the one two canes after it."

"This one?"

"Yes, yes, that's the one. I want him to remember never to fight again."

"But this is too thick, ma'am! It will probably cause serious injury! I suggest if you really want him to learn a lesson, this cane would do." The discipline master pointed towards the second thinnest cane.

"All right, all right. Can we get on with it please? I'm in a rush." The woman sighed.

"Okay. Rylan, now you must know that this punishment is for your own good, okay? You did something wrong, and this is what you deserve. You cannot blame anyone but yourself, and –"

"Yes, yes. I believe he knows all that, sir. Now, would you please?"

Rylan stared at the woman. She was mad, very mad to even choose the cane to use on him! He fumed; he was not going to let her win so easily.

"Rylan, would you please take off your trousers? And lie on this bed after that." Mr Hughes said, using the cane to tap on something that seemed to be a white bed.

The boy flushed. He was embarrassed. Taking off his trousers right then and there? Especially in front of that… that woman? He could not imagine that.

"Rylan? You aren't shy, are you? After all, we are both males, and that is your mother. There's nothing to be afraid of. Come on, be quick."

His face grew even redder and hotter. He wished the woman's true identity could be revealed. He wished to tell, but he knew only too well that no one would believe him. Who would ever believe a naughty boy than a woman who is known to be his mother? Pulling off his trousers, he climbed onto the bed and lay on it, facedown, reluctantly.

He hadn't expected the first whip when it came. It came down hard, just like Mr Hughes had promised earlier on their way here, and it was painful too, but it was something he could manage. He tensed, knowing the second whip would be arriving anytime soon. He was right. The cane came down a second time, as hard as the first. He bit his lip from crying out. _It will soon be over… it will soon be over. Hang on. _He told himself. He had just stabilized his breathing when the third time came, but oddly enough, the pain was not as stinging as the first two times. He inhaled sharply, still.

"Okay you can get up now." Mr Hughes told him.

"That's all? Just three strokes of the cane?" The woman's voice rang in his ears. Rylan was disgusted. Three strokes was already enough, what more did she want?

Mr Hughes, as though echoing his thoughts, said, "Three strokes is enough, ma'am. Any more and it will probably do hurt." There was a hint of surprise in the discipline master's voice. He must be shocked by this kind of mother, Rylan thought.

"Never mind. I know my son best, sir, and I know he surely can take some more. He needs it, anyway. He needs to be disciplined." Said the woman. "And, sir, if you won't do it, I'll gladly do so. Perhaps my son needs a touch of his mother's _concern _and _love_ to understand how much hurt he has caused his father and I by picking a fight."

He heard no response from his discipline master so he figured that Mr Hughes was just plain speechless. He tried to twist his head sideways to have a closer look, but as soon as he got a glimpse his head was slammed down onto the white sheets. The throbbing in his forehead had not gone when more lashes of the cane came. It was unbearably painful; the force that was bringing down the cane every few seconds was far much more stronger than that earlier, which was weird for a woman. _She is a madwoman, after all. She surely must have some special strength_, he thought.

For a moment, he forgot all about the pain. But as soon as he left his thoughts and returned to the real world, the excruciating pain appeared again. He was pretty sure his skin was going to bleed anytime soon. With every stroke of the cane, the number of black dots that burst right in front of him increased. His cries were muffled among the thick white sheets as he gripped the snow-coloured soft linen so tightly he often tore them. Then he would grope for another area to grip and hold on to. This continued for what seemed like millenniums to him. His hearing became unclear and he heard his "mother" muttering in the far background. '_You need to be taught a lesson. You better not fight again. Don't you know how much pain you caused your parents? Hmm?' _Each lashing was accompanied by a sentence, or, a question. His palms were sweaty and aching, but he still clutched the sheets steadfastly in his fists, despite his long nails that kept digging into his palms. That was his only way of forgetting the pain, by channeling it from his bottom to his hands. After all, the pain in his palms seemed to be known more to him than his butt.

Then it stopped. Finally. He exhaled in a deep rush. Slowly, his hands loosened their grips on the sheets and the balled fists dropped. He closed his eyes, trying his best to regain his composure.

"Get up." A voice commanded him. "Get up, we're going home."

Eyes half-closed, he planted his jelly-like hands somewhat firmly on the bed and tried to support himself up. His hands wobbled and he fell over on his back. He howled.

"Shut up and get up!"

Cursing in all the languages he knew, he struggled out of the bed, then pulled out his trousers. He swayed violently as the black dancing dots had not cleared, and Mr Hughes offered to help him with it.

Then he followed the madwoman out of the room like a faithful dog. He could feel the discipline master's curious stare boring into his back every step he took, but he did not bother to turn back. Right now he had one other focus. A more important one, definitely.

He had to escape from Mabel's clutches.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing of What A Girl Wants' characters. Everything recognizable belongs to the movie and its producers, anything else belongs to me. I have no permission to use these characters and am receiving no money for this story. This story was written for enjoyment only.

Chapter 3

He let his so-called mother drag him through the school and out onto the streets. His behind hurt crazily, but he knew it was not time for him to complain. Every muscle in his body screamed at him, telling him to run – to run as far as his feet could carry him. He knew, but he had to wait for the right time in the right place.

To any outsider or passer-by, the two would seem perfectly normal. A furious mother dragging a naughty child – that would be it. No one would even bother to take a second glance at them.

But he himself knew that the situation was not what it appeared to be.

He chose to wait.

As they rounded a corner and reached a road junction, Rylan saw his chance. It was the perfect opportunity. The place was bustling with activity and he could easily blend in with the crowd. Furthermore, it would not be easy for Mabel to find him if he were among the crowd. Among the _tall_ crowd.

He knew it was now, or never.

Grabbing hold of what seemed like the only chance he had, he yanked his arm free from the grip Mabel had on him and dashed for the road. He weaved his way in and out of the crowd with ease, though once in a while he was jostled and pushed around by fat round hips or thighs.

Reaching the other end, Rylan heaved a sigh of relief. But he knew he could not stop. Not now. Not yet. He would still be visible to Mabel once the crowd disperses. He had to continue his escape route, till he reached somewhere far and safe.

He followed the people around blindly, not knowing where they would lead him. But he did not care. He did not know where to go anyway, and most importantly, he was safe for now.

If only he could ask the way home. If only he could make it home and call his father before Mabel did. If only he could be safe from her.

Just then he halted. He saw it. He saw his hope. He saw his shelter. He saw his protection against Mabel.

No, he was not home. He was, in fact, _far_ from home. Neither did he see his dad.

Rylan saw a police station.

Sprinting towards the station, he knew he was saved. He may be a mere six-year-old kid, but his father Ian had instructed him many times before that if he were lost or being chased after by "baddies", he could go to nearest police station. It had been drilled into his head that policemen are adults who could be trusted and people who could help him. It was time to test it out.

He walked up the front steps and tried pushing open the glass door, but it would not budge. He tried once more, shoulder leaning against the door and giving it a hard shove, but still it did not give in to the little figure. What he got in return was not an opened door, but instead a sore arm.

Just as he was wondering how he was going to enter the station with his meager energy, a man in uniform appeared behind the glass doors suddenly. The man was nearly bald, with a stout figure and a thick brown moustache right under his nose. He was smiling down at Rylan kindly.

Rylan decided that there was no way he was going in alone, and he desperately needed the man's help, so he put on his best set of pleading and innocent eyes, and gazed at the man.

He guessed that he had melted the man's heart with his pure and innocent gaze, because within seconds he was working his way into the station, with the man trailing behind him.

Bingo! He was in. Now he was safe, if only he could get some policeman to talk to. He peered around.

"May I help you, little boy?"

Rylan jumped at the question. Whirling around happily, his spirits soon dissipated when he saw whom the voice belonged to. It was the kind man who helped open the door.

_I thought… Why is he still here? He cannot be a policeman! I'm looking for a policeman! I thought a policeman should be taller, darker, younger and more handsome than him? That I always see in television shows! This man is like a Baldie._

"Uh… a– are you a… a p– policeman?" Rylan feared for the worst.

"Yes I am, little boy." The Baldie replied with a knowing smile as he stooped down to the young boy's level, so as to not frighten him. But there was not much difference in their heights anyway. "Why? What are you doing here? Where are your parents?" He asked.

Rylan knew those were the basic questions a policeman would ask. He knew and understood the questions, but he did not know the answers. He remained silent.

Baldie, taking the silence as a cue, said, "Would you like to sit down and tell me about it then? Do not fear me, I would not eat you. I only want to help you."

The boy nodded. He knew that the man had no ill intentions, but truth be spoken, he had not expected a policeman to look like… that. No one could blame him for that, could they?

He followed Baldie into an air-conditioned room and sat down in one of the leather chairs. Without any prompting – as he knew he had not much time left – he took a deep breath and said. "I… I want to talk."

Baldie nodded encouragingly. "Okay. Go on."

Rylan bit his lip. When he could contain it no longer he blurted, "I – I am scared! There is this… this woman outside – no, not outside, she's gone now, but she wants to catch me! Just now she hit me so hard, it was so painful! I… I'm scared, but I don't dare to go out again. I scared she come back… I want to go home!"

Silence filled the room as Baldie tried to digest it all, as though slowly chewing on the words he had just taken in, unsure of whether to believed them or not. Finally he spoke. "Very well son. I shall escort you home to your parents, if you tell me your address."

A wide smile broke out on Rylan's face. Thank God. He was safe.

Or so he thought.

The ride back home was a long one, but Rylan didn't mind as long as Mabel was out of his bounds.

The policeman did keep to his words. He pulled up at the front of the house Rylan had directed him to, and followed the boy onto the porch. It was after all his duty to keep the boy safe from harm.

There was an awkward silence as they both walked up the front steps. Rylan looked up at Baldie while the man gazed down at him, pursing his lips.

For a moment their gazes were locked, as though it were some kind of staring competition. Then the policeman turned away and raised his fist to knock on the door.

"Wait." Rylan said, certain that no one was at home. "Nobody's home, but we have a spare key outside here."

Sighing, Baldie let his hand drop to his side and waited while he watched the young boy rummage through the pots of plants lined alongside one of the walls. Finally, buried in the soil of the third pot from the right, he pulled out a silver tiny odd-shaped key. "Ah ha! Here!" The boy announced proudly as he held it up in the sunlight.

Dubiously, the policeman took it in his hand and tried the door. The key did not fit.

"Come on, kid. This can't be the one. Look at how small it is! It can't open the door." Baldie sighed, returning the silver key to the boy.

"No? Ok, wait. I think I know where the real one is."

Within seconds, Rylan pulled out a second key – this time, the third pot counting from the left. This key is silver too, but at least it looked big enough to fit into the keyhole.

"This is surely the one." He was confident about that, as he strode over to the door. Smoothly, he slipped it in and turned the key. There was a soft 'click' as the door gave way with a turn of the knob and a gentle push.

Beaming, he quickly rushed into the house, with the policeman following him.

Rylan was all ready to make an emergency phone call to his dad, but a single voice stopped him.

"Rylan! Where on earth have you been?"

TBC...


End file.
